Destined to Change
by Down-In-Flames
Summary: Matt Shephard meets a being that threatens to turn his life inside out and topple old routines. Strangely enough, he's ok with it all, especially when the being proves to be a partner and a friend. Finally Updated! Huzzah!
1. Set the Scene: Meet Matt

_This is my first fic with an OC, though I'm pretty sure that's no great feat in and of itself. The OC is based upon myself, tacky though that may seem, except for the fact that the names are different and the parents have different attitudes, which you'll find out in later chapters. As always, read & review if you can spare a few seconds. Also, let it be known that I retain no rights to any songs, digimon, artists, or any other lawsuit-worthy item in here. The only thing I own is the OC and his family. Good? Good. _

The quiet stillness of the school yard was pierced by the shrill chime of the bell, and within seconds the empty quad area swarmed with students, their voices buzzing and mixing in a crowded tone. All had visions of the three day weekend and the extra rest and relaxation it brought in company with it, and there was a relaxed Friday mood hanging over the assembled teens of Stone Lake High.

Among the students still pouring out of the classrooms was a tall boy of about sixteen years. He stepped along almost jerkingly, his longer stride interrupted by slower students. A pair of large black Sony stereo headphones adorned his head, their long cord trailing down his grey-blue shirt to wind back into the pocket of his jeans and attach itself to his ever-present Walkman. The music pounded in his ears, its heavy bass tones occupying his mind and obscuring all other noise occurring in his general area.

He walked past the crème-and-brown Biology building, his way still obstructed by those who had not enough sense to move out of the path of others. He started suddenly as his headphones were yanked off his brown-blond hair and a voice invaded his music.

"Earth to Matt Shephard. Come in Matt."

Matt turned and stared into the grinning face of his best friend.

"Hey Steven." he said, snatching back his headphones and hanging them around his neck.

"It's like you're not even tuned in to reality when you wear those, man, you know that?" Steven said, pointing to the headphones.

"What can I say?" Matt shrugged. "Music is much better than the constant drone of all these sheep." he said, gesturing at the huddled students. He imitated the voice of one of the blonde girls standing a ways over, "Omigod! Did you see her and Ricky?! She's a total whore! He can do way better than that piece of garbage."

Steven laughed. "Haha. Yeah, you're right. But one of these days, man, you're gonna get caught with those phones. Music ain't allowed on campus, you know that. If you were smart, you'd sneak in some ear buds or something smaller than what you got now. Those things aren't exactly subtle."

Matt just shrugged again. "Ear buds sound like crap. These have better sound quality, and they block out most of the outside noise, too."

"Yeah, I know. I called your name, like, four times before I had to pull them off."

"Good for you. Hey, come on, let's be good sheep and walk. I got my ride waiting for me up at the corner." They proceeded to wade through the crowd, Matt leading, as people were more likely to move for some 6'3" white guy than a 5'4" Chinese boy. Go figure. They got to a clearer area of the path and walked side by side.

"God, man. You really stand out in a crowd, huh?" Steven piped up.

"Yeah. I've told you a thousand times before, I feel like an eel in a sea of minnows."

"Pssh." Steven thumped Matt on the shoulder. "So what CD you got today?"

"A Passage in Time."

"Ah. Authority Zero. How many times you gonna bring that?"

"Till I get tired of it, that's how long."

"Whatever. So what are you doing this weekend?"

"Why Steven! Are you asking me on a date?" Matt joked. It earned him a light punch in the arm from his indignant friend.

"You know what I meant, smartass. What do you have planned?"

"I dunno. Relax, ride my bike, listen to music, whatever happens, y'know?"

"Hmph. Poor planning skills, that's what you got. I'm going to my aunt's in San Francisco."

"Hey, does she really live in Chinatown?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Dunno. It just sounds kinda cool. I went there in 6th grade; we got fortune cookies and Chinese food. It rocked solidly."

"There's more to Chinatown than the food, dude." With an "oh!", he slapped Matt on the shoulder again. "Don't forget, I need that ten bucks on Tuesday!"

Oh, yeah, I'll _totally _try to remember this time." Matt said as they reached the bike locks and storage. "It's just that your money burns holes in my pocket."

"Yeah, funny how other people's money'll do that to ya… See you next week, you poor bastard." Steve said with a wave as Matt left his side and ventured toward the corner of the campus and his ride home. "And I expect that ten bucks when I see you again!"

"Sorry, can't hear you." Matt shot over his shoulder with a smile.

Steven laughed to himself and mounted his bike, taking it slowly out of the crowded bike locks.

Matt, now alone in his walking, replaced his headphones and switched the CD to one of his favorite songs. Within seconds the familiar music was thumping in his ears, and he felt himself being lifted above everything that was occurring around him. He felt detached from the mundane existence of his suburban life. Nothing mattered anymore. There was just him and the music, and it soothed him as it pulsed through the black phones hiding his ears.

_Not you! Not you! Not you! Not you!_

_I'm me, not you!_

He felt himself loosen up under the influence of bass-ridden undertones and familiar lyrics, and casually glanced from side to side as he walked, surveying his fellow students with an air of separation and difference.

_Who am I and what am I to believe?_

_Well not a single thing you're sayin' to me!_

_I've had enough, my friend,_

_And I'm fed up again._

_Well, it's me, not you!_

He wasn't really like any of them, he supposed. All the others, secure in their positions and their passions, materialistic passions though they were. Many of the kids, at least those he came in contact with, were only interested in what time the newest shoe in the line came out, what rumors were circulating, and the current fashion trends. They all wanted to fit in, whereas he could care less. It was not like he wanted to stand out or anything; he just didn't care what others were doing or what they thought about him. He had other things to think about than petty outward appearances.

_See, it's my life, not yours._

_Take a look, I'm not gonna take anymore._

_Don't you know it's me, not you?_

In the social pyramid of that particular school, he was considered by most people to be a loner. He sometimes hung out with a few other social misfits, but mostly he kept to himself, writing or simply contemplating various aspects of life. He wasn't antisocial, it was just that no one really connected with him enough to be real friends.

_Individuality, what does it mean?_

_I think it's you be you and I'll be me._

_Your own opinion? Great, grand, good for you._

_It's still me, not you._

Except, of course, for Steven. He and Matt had been best friends since about first grade, and they stayed together despite different classes and schools and a clearly noticeable height difference. But other than that, he had seen many people come and go, either being friends just in class or being slightly confused at his choices. Matt didn't mind so much, though; he enjoyed having time to himself and being independent. It was his time of freedom, his time to figure things out.

_See, it's my life, not yours,_

_Take a look, I'm not gonna take anymore._

_Don't you know that it's me, not you?_

With the end of the song and the CD, he found himself nearing his ride home. He walked to the green-grey Toyota minivan, rapped on the back window, and heard the locks open, followed by the rising of the power door. He threw his backpack in and shut the hatch, walking around to the side to enter the passenger seat beside his mother.

"Hey." he greeted, buckling his seat belt.

"Hey." came the mirrored reply.

"First weekend in a while with no homework due the next week."

"Good, cause I have some things I need you to do around the house to day while I'm gone."

Matt's head turned to look at her. "You're going somewhere?"

"Yes. I have an appointment with Belinda, and then I have some errands to run. Your dad has to work late again, and Chris is over at Eric's house until about 7:00. You'll be alone, and I expect the house to be clean when I get back."

Matt heard the message, registered it, and translated it. Mom gone, Dad gone, brother gone. Home alone with nothing to worry about except for a couple minute chores. He smiled to himself.


	2. Going Out for a Bit

The van pulled into the driveway of their 90s era home, right beside the 60s Mercedes that hadn't run since Matt was six. He grabbed his pack from the back of the car and took the keys from his mother's outstretched hand. He strolled slowly enough to the door to earn an eye roll from his mother when he returned. She held out her hand again.

"Give me the keys or I won't be able to get back in the house." They jangled as they plopped into her hand. "Right. I've gotta run, but I'll see you when I get back. Food's in the fridge. Love you."

With those wonderful words she rolled the window back up and the car rolled out of the driveway, bouncing twice as it hit the steeper part of the curved sidewalk. Then she was gone.

Matt shook his medium-long hair out of his eyes, chuckling lowly.

"Sweet."

The chores themselves were actually quite easy. Just the normal stuff; empty the dishwasher, take the trash out, vacuum, change the litterbox. He checked the clock as soon as he finished.

4:26

Perfect. He ran up the stairs two-at-a-time to his room, dropped off his CD player, grabbed his knife and his markers and exited the room again, thumping loudly as he ran-fell down the steps. Grabbing the spare house key from the rack on the wall opposite the garage door, he opened the heavy wooden door to his garage and hit the "open" button.

A low rumbling answered the press, and light began to seep into the dark garage, illuminating an outside office, a workbench, and boxes and boxes of storage and unfinished projects. He navigated his way through the perpetually-cluttered garage and stepped outside its boundaries. Nobody was outside, not even the party-happy neighbors.

'Perfect.' he thought to himself with warm satisfaction.

He rolled his mountain bike out of it's niche in the garage, checking the tire pressure and making sure everything was in order. He set the bike up on the kickstand outside the garage and ducked back inside, rummaging around until he found what he sought. He exited the garage with a black shoulder bag in hand, then snapped his fingers as he remembered an important point of the process.

Just in case someone should return before he did, he left a quick note explaining what he would be doing and saying not to worry. He taped the note to the first place his parents would see it if they got home: the TV screen.

He closed the garage door and went out the front door, locking it with the spare key as he left. He mounted his bike, shouldered the bag, and, with a shudder of pleasure, took of down his driveway and into the street.

He poured all his effort into getting up to speed, getting massive thrills as he swerved in and out of the street, almost floating along the asphalt yet still feeling the rocks. He rounded corner after corner of his suburbia neighborhood until he came to a major road.

With a rapid glance in both directions, he shot across the six-laned strip of pavement and up the slanted curb into a community park. Grass became a colored blur as it sped by him, and the many soccer fields and baseball diamonds were barely noticed, let alone seen by Matt as he rocketed along the wide and curving sidewalk. Occasionally he had to bank hard to the left or right in order to avoid a jogger or a fellow biker, but never once did he slow down, relishing the rush the adrenaline bestowed upon him.

'Now THIS is freedom!' he thought with a grin.

Only when the cemented walk became a gravel path did he begin to slow. He stopped the bike on an old concrete-steel bridge that spanned the creek which ran through the community. Matt always enjoyed stopping at the bridge, and the reflections dancing upon the water calmed him as much as the silence. Reeds extended up from the depths of the creek and trees dangled their hanging branches lazily into the water, dropping white petals from Spring blossoms to float whimsically on and out of sight. Matt sighed contentedly, then glanced at his watch and adjusted his bag. He set his foot on the pedal and pushed off with his other and he was off again.

The gravel path beneath his tires rapidly diminished to dirt, then switched to cement as he entered the neighborhood on the other side of the park. He rode through a drainage ditch between the fences of two houses, emerging on the other side amidst scattered eucalyptus trees and tall grasses.

Following a worn dirt path scarred with tire tracks, he came upon a set of stretching railroad tracks, stopping atop them and looking in either direction at the worn wood ties holding the grayed metal strips together. His turning gaze came to rest upon a large power box sprouting from the ground beside the tracks.

"As good a place as any, I suppose…" Matt said aloud, glancing around to check for signs of the presence of others. There was nobody to be seen.

He set his black bag on the ground and dismounted his bike. Unhinging the clasp, he opened the top compartment to reveal several cans of spray paint and a respirator. Strapping on the respirator, he unzipped another pouch of the bag and pulled out a manilla folder of a mix of cardpaper and laminate stencils. Selecting a basic design the size of printer paper, he took out a roll of scotch tape and secured the stencil to the metal box. Pulling a can of Cardinal Red from his bag, he shook it vigorously for about a minute and tested the spray on the open air.

Finding everything in order, he proceeded to spray over the manilla folder stencil with gently sweeping motions, careful to avoid drips and runs in the brilliant red paint. After spraying he gingerly removed the stencil, nodding in approval at the crisp image left behind. Rummaging through the many other stencils in his folder, he pulled out pulled out another sheet the same size as the previous one. Matt chose to set this one just below the first, enough that it would touch the red but not overlap, and he sprayed a deep green over the design. Some black paint and a few stencils later, he was looking at an elaborate rose, visibly out-of-place among scrawled messages like "TDog is a bitch" and "Miranda wuz here."

Taking out a can of vivid blue, he quickly sprayed the words "MAKE ART NOT WAR" under his creation, then signed it in broad Sharpie as "The Saint of Mediocrity". He stepped back and unclipped his respirator, satisfied at his newest artistic creation. Then he loaded up all his materials and took off again. On his bike, he glanced at his watch. That work had only taken him five or six minutes. Pretty good for the detail.

He surveyed his surroundings from his bike seat. He had been riding for about twenty minutes, but still no more civilization. No houses anywhere, just eucalyptus trees to block the train noise and a derelict car rusting in a creaking barn. Abandoned for the most part. Come to think of it, he had never been this far in this direction before. Still, he liked it so far. He pedaled up the increasingly overgrown path and he was beginning to believe no one had been out here in a while; there wasn't even trash on the ground.

In the distance he saw a sagging frame of a barren house peek from behind a grove of scraggly trees, the windows forever blinded by sheets of faded plywood. As he came closer, he realized that the door was not barred like the windows: the plywood seemed to have been removed. Forcibly.

'Cool.'

He turned his bike in the direction of the house, stopping on the patched brown grass of what was once probably a lawn but now nowhere near fit the description. Dismounting his bike and kicking down the stand, he dropped his pack by the wheel and proceeded to venture inside the antiquated building, his curiosity aroused.

Two steps up the dusty front stairs and he crossed the threshold of the house, the floor creaking under his weight as he moved about. His eyes took some time to adjust to the sudden darkness, but from what he could tell the house was in decent enough shape. There was still wallpaper on the walls, though it was peeling slightly, and the little light that entered through the front door revealed an old stained table and a set of two overturned chairs. There were three major rooms aside from the bathroom: a dining room, a kitchen, and a bedroom, all separated by thin molded walls. He found no other items in the house except for a large cushion resting limply in the corner of the bedroom. It looked less dingy than the rest of the house, and Matt stared at it, pondering where it could have come from.

Matt's head flashed toward the kitchen, where sound was drifting through a ratty backdoor. Treading softly, he crept over to the door and peered outside, his eyes beholding a large weather-worn barn that he was surprised he had missed seeing earlier. As his ears adjusted to the level of noise, he realized that the sounds were indications of a confrontation, most likely occurring in the barn about 100 yards from the house. He listened intently and could make out the sounds of scraping, scuffling, and the occasional shatter of glass.

"Didn't think anybody was out here..." Matt said aloud.

Pushing open the tattered door, he stepped down to the weed-ravaged earth and strode across to the barn. He wasn't sure why he felt the absolute need to investigate the issue; he just felt pulled toward it. Perhaps he was curious as to who else would be out this far, or why they would be fighting. He knew not why he did it, but he walked closer even as skeptic and doubtful thoughts began to run through his mind.

He was all of ten feet away now, and the combat sounded vicious. He could not see inside yet, but he did not have to to know that it was a major brawl. Dust flew out of the open barn door, and occasionally the wooden walls would crack and shudder with the force of a body being thrown against them. Grunts and muffled words were know being heard, and he could make out two distinct voices. Creeping to the open barn door, he peeked his head around to peer inside.


	3. Unexpected Confrontation

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. Instead of the gang fight that he had imagined, he was witnessing something that reminded him of a scene from a sci-fi movie. Two incredible creatures were exchanging terrific blows on the dirt floor of the creaking barn. One had the appearance of a giant tiger, with gigantic fangs and sheets of jointed metal draped over it like a suit of armor. Its tail was strangely crooked and multijointed, and it was wielded like a powerful weapon. The whole thing was the size of a compact car, but it was the other creature that held his eye longer.

The other one possessed the body of what struck him as a fox and human hybrid, with the body and fur of a fox, but the overall physique and movement of a human being. It was covered in golden yellow fur with white tipped ears, tail, feet, and hands, with a completely white stomach. Violet armguards adorned it's forearms and identical guards covered it's legs below the knee, each one bearing a yinyang symbol.

The two continued to fight even as he inspected them; apparently they were too absorbed in their battle to take immediate notice of him. A lull in the fighting occurred as the fox leapt backwards to a higher point in the barn. As it leapt, it noticed Matt and stared at him with brilliant blue eyes. It landed on a high beam in the rafters, but it's eyes kept flitting back between Matt and it's opponent.

Suddenly the tiger froze and began to deeply sniff the air. Matt cringed and began to slink back behind the door, but it was too late. The tiger had seen him.

Without wasting any time, the beast leapt at him, claws extended. Matt's adrenaline kicked in and he dove out of the way, the tiger flying out the door and skidding on the dirt. Matt quickly ducked in the barn and threw the door shut, fumbling with the lock and latch.

He almost got the door locked, but just before the lock slipped through the latch the door exploded in a shower of splinters. The tiger leapt through the destroyed doorway to crash into Matt, knocking him onto the ground.

The beast stood over him, it's tail twitching slightly and a snarl upon it's face. Black lips curled back on yellowed teeth, and dilated pupils seemed to bore into Matt, communicating a silent message of triumph. The tiger roared once and threw it's head back, preparing to issue the final bite.

Before Matt could realize what he was doing, his knife was out of his pocket and in his hand. A flick of the wrist and shining steel briefly gleamed in his eyes. Then he shifted his arm and plunged the four inches of metal into the belly of the monster over him.

The giant cat loosed a pain-soaked cry, reflex making it streak for a place of safety away from the source of the pain. It ran to a corner of the barn and turned around, teeth bared and growling lowly. It's gaze was one of a mortally wounded animal, a combination of fear, anger, and remorse.

Matt, now up from the ground and standing in the middle of the room, matched the tiger's stare. Determined to win, the tiger mounted one last charge at Matt, in spite of it's wounded condition. Matt gulped and gripped his knife harder, readying himself for the attack.

At the last second before the tiger hit him, the beast was thrown to the side from a devastating kick from the yellow fox. Matt watched the tiger slam into a wall and get up slowly, back legs shaking ever-so-slightly. He faced his opponents with a sneer on his face, and Matt nearly jumped when he heard the tiger speak.

"Fools." it uttered with a dry, tired laugh. Then it yelled in a rumbling voice, "ARMORED TIGER TAIL!"

Matt, surprised enough with the sudden vocalization of his foe, was shocked even more to see the tail of the beast changing. It seemed to grow twice as long as before, and the joints had become more pronounced. As it waved through the air, Matt heard a low humming sound, as one hears when he swings a willow branch through the air. He realized with grim despair that the tail was probably as solid as a baseball bat.

Then the tail came swishing through the air at Matt and the fox. They each dove out of the way, rolling to safe ground just in time. Behind them the tail hit the ground with a deep thud, kicking up dust and leaving an imprint in the ground. Matt's assumption had been correct; the tail was as hard as steel.

Of the two of them, the tiger seemed to think of the fox as more of a threat, and so it sent the tail chasing after its golden prey. The blue-eyed fox leapt high to the rafters again, but to no avail; still the tail gave chase.

But suddenly the fox turned, flipping into the air and over the tail. It began to fall thirty feet to the tiger below, crossing its arms across its chest as it did. Matt was shocked once more as he heard a distinctly female voice erupt from the throat of the fox.

"Diamond Storm!" The cry signaled the flight of a multitude of razor bright shards of light. They streaked towards the tiger with impressive speed, and Matt couldn't help cheering as each one found its mark in a hail of light and brilliance. The fox dropped to the ground, and she (he assumed) and Matt cautiously waited for the cloud of dust from the attack to settle.

When it did, Matt felt his spirits drop.

There stood the tiger, still very much alive. Matt didn't understand how it could be so until he saw the scores of pockmarks in the armor sheeting over the tiger's back. The armor must have been too thick for the shards to penetrate.

The beast roared and charged the vixen. Surprised but still alert, she leapt high to avoid his charge, only to be blindsided by the tail. She crashed to the ground with a low gasp. Matt saw the tiger begin to close in as the fox struggled to regain breath. It's claws were unsheathed, and a victorious look was once again present in it's eyes.

"No!" Matt cried, sensing the defeat of his newfound ally. He looked frantically about him for something, anything...

There! A piece of thrice-folded rebar was propped against a ceiling support post. Matt reached over and snatched the length of metal. It was a little shorter than a hockey stick, and it had blunt metal studs running all the way down one side.

Without a second thought he ran to his giant enemy and swung with all his force, aiming at the vulnerable tendons near the heel of it's hind leg. The metal connected violently, with a brutal snap resounding upon impact. The tiger grunted and emitted a sharp yelp, turning quickly toward Matt with all intention of ending the boy's life once and for all.


	4. Renamon

Raising a paw the size of Matt's chest, the tiger prepared to swipe when all of a sudden his face contorted and froze. With a sound like a tired sigh, he slumped over to the ground. A score of still glowing shards of energy were embedded in the soft, unprotected underbelly, with the fox still standing with her arms outstretched from the attack.

Seeing that her foe was out of commission, the fox allowed her shoulders to slump slightly, most likely overcome with weariness. The action caused her to inhale sharply through gritted teeth, and she shot a hand up to her upper arm. Strangely enough, Matt was able to observe the beginnings of a bruise already forming.

The vixen locked eyes with Matt for but a short while, mentally scanning and gauging him. Matt held the stare until the fox seemed satisfied, at which point Matt dropped the rebar and went to lean against the barn wall.

The fox followed suit, choosing to kneel with her back to the wall about ten feet from where Matt stood, her hand at her bicep the whole time. Matt remained quiet for a minute or so more, deliberating on what one could say to such a creature after such a thing had occurred, until he decided to vocalize his concerns.

"You're hurt?" he questioned, feeling slightly silly that he would get an intelligent response from such an unusual sort.

"Yes, but it will pass." Her voice was calm and composed, and Matt could almost feel that it had a certain… mystical quality to it.

The finality and sureness with which she had spoken left him scrambling for things to say. Matt felt like he was tripping over his own tongue without speaking.

"So, uh, is this where you live? Y'know, in the house?" he finally managed.

"Yes."

Matt was suddenly struck by a thought which he had previously neglected.

"I think you saved my life back there. Thanks." he thought. Immediately he began to mentally berate himself. 'Real smooth, jackass. I _think _you saved my life? How about-"

"I could say the same thing to you, so don't get worked up over it." she spoke, interrupting his thoughts.

"Oh. Right."

Something near the body of the tiger caught Matt's eye, and he turned his head in its direction. It was like a movement, but he couldn't tell more than that.

He turned back to the vixen, who was gazing at the dirt below her. "Are you sure he's dead?" Matt questioned, jerking his thumb toward the body.

"Hmm?" the other responded, bringing her head up to look at Matt. "Why?"

"Thought I saw him move out of the corner of my eye. It was kinda like a shimmer or something…" he dropped off, realizing he probably sounded foolish.

Instead, his friend stood up from her place on the wall with an expectant expression on her face.

"Finally…" she muttered.

Matt was confused until he saw that the tiger was indeed glimmering and quivering slightly. Glad that he hadn't been seeing things, he watched as the shaking grew in speed and intensity until…

Matt saw the body seemingly break up into shining particles the size of leaves, and he stood by in awe as the pieces floated up and on into the air, as though they mocked the principles of gravity and physics. The vixen, now standing very near to the particles, spread her arms wide and closed her eyes, inclining her head slightly as she did so.

The squares of light met with her body, melting away into her fur every time one of them made contact. The shimmering squares of light seemed drawn to the fox, seeking her out and becoming one with her and disappearing. Matt would not have believed it had he not seen it with his own eyes.

Only when the last bit of light was gone did the fox lower her arms to her sides and open her eyes. She turned to face Matt, who absently noticed that the bruise on her arm was gone.

He stuttered mildly for a moment, then found his voice, crudely fashioned though it was.

"What… are you?" he asked bluntly, blushing as he realized how unintelligent that remark really was.

With a soft smirk on her face, she answered, "Complicated."

Matt raised his eyebrows. "So I noticed."

Never taking her eyes off of him, she spoke again. "My name is Renamon."

"I'm Matt." He held out his hand to her, which she looked at for a moment as though thinking through options.

Finally she moved to accept his gesture. As soon as fur met skin, however, a bright light surrounded their hands. Unable and strangely unwanting to pull away, they both stared in wonder as a small form appeared within the sphere of luminescence.

Finally it faded, and Renamon let her hand drop back to her side. Matt looked at his closed fist, a wave of anticipation and a feeling of change washing over him.

Something was in his hand that wasn't there before.

With wide eyes Matt unclenched his curled fingers, staring in curiosity and wonder at what appeared to be a small electronic device nestled in his palm. It was a mostly white, trim of deep and lively green enclosing a tiny screen and several buttons. Along the right side of the thing ran a long slit, like the thing one swipes a credit card through.

Renamon moved beside him and stared at the thing with interest. "It's a-" she began.

"D-Power." he interjected.

She swung her head around to look at him in surprise. "How do you know that?"

Matt furrowed his brow for a moment, then turned to look at Renamon, a sheepish grin on his face. "I don't really know. I just suddenly… understood this machine and everything it does."

"How could THAT have happened?"

"Beats me. I also know that having this means we're-"

"Partners, I know."

"You're alright with that?"

"Shouldn't I be? Besides, you seem like a capable sort, Matt." she said.

Matt shrugged and walked over to the spot where the tiger, which he suddenly knew had been a digimon like Renamon, had been. No trace of it remained, but he wasn't surprised. He turned and studied Renamon's arm, noticing that the largest portion of the bruise had vanished.

"You feeling better?" he questioned.

She nodded. "Yes, it doesn't hurt nearly so much anymore."

"Will it… heal on its own?" he asked.

"Shouldn't you know that, 'Mr. Wonder-Genius?'" she asked with a slight smile.

Matt rolled his eyes.

Renamon chuckled slightly at his annoyance. "Yes, I'll heal. I might be digital, but I can still function as well as or better than many other living things."

Matt smiled. "So I gathered." He glanced at his watch, his heart jumping slightly as he witnessed the time.

Renamon noticed his uneasiness as he glanced at the watch. "What is it?" she questioned.

"I have 15 minutes to make a 30 minute trip back home. If my parents realize I was gone this whole time, my neck is as good as wrung." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Razr phone, holding it high in the air. With a disappointed sigh, he shoved it back in his pocket. "Crap." he muttered. "No reception out here…"

"Why would you call them?"

"To stall for time, maybe ask mom to stop at the grocery store or something. Well, it looks like I'm just going to have to ride for all I'm worth. Do you think you can keep up?"

Renamon wore a knowing smile. "I think I'll manage."

"Good. I know this was your home, but are you ready to leave? There's nothing you have to do, is there?"

"No. Let's go."

Matt smiled and turned, jogging out of the barn, across the yard, through the house, and back to his bike. To his dismay, he noticed the back tire was utterly devoid of air; it was soft and flabby to the touch.

"Crap!" Matt swore, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"What is it?" Renamon asked again.

"Tire's flat. There's no way I'll get home in time now…" He turned to look at Renamon, and he was surprised to find her with a small grin on her face.

"Let me help you there, as my first assistance as official partners."

"Sure, but how…" Matt fell off, intrigued.

"Grab your stuff and take my hand." she told him.

Matt did as he was bidden, and their hands met once more, though this time sans special effects.

Instantly, Matt felt himself growing fainter and fainter, like was being stretched thinner and thinner still. Then, as suddenly as it began, it was over, only with he, Renamon, and his gear a good 500 feet from the house.

Matt was shocked, but not so much as he supposed he should have been. His eyes met Renamon's and he nodded.

"Interesting. What else can you do?"

"I suppose you'll find out in time, _partner_, but for now, let's just get you home."

"Can't argue there. Let's be off."

Renamon smirked. "Hang on tight."


	5. Welcome Home

Together Matt and Renamon observed the house from the shelter of a tree in the wildlife preservation field that ran intimately close to the cul-de-sac in which Matt lived. To his relief, Matt found no car in the driveway.

He let loose a low sigh. Renamon saw this and questioned Matt.

"Why were you so anxious to get home before anyone else?"

Matt spoke with a bit of embarrassment. "A while back, I went for a walk when my parents weren't home. They beat me back, and when I got home I got the thrashing of my life. For two-" Matt thrust two fingers into the air to force the point, "weeks, I had to stay home. No music, no computer, nothing but 'thinking over what I had done and what I could've done better'."

At Renamon's raised eyebrows, he continued. "Yeah, tell me about it." He rolled his eyes. "I swear, sometimes they can be the most stubborn and close-minded people in the state." He looked Renamon over, noting how much she stood out from what was considered normal. "For that reason, I think it would be better if you didn't meet them quite yet. Is that ok with you?"

Renamon nodded her head in understanding, adding, "I suppose it is necessary for the time being…"

"Thanks. Come on, the coast is clear. Let's go before someone shows up outside."

With that, he parted the leaves and dropped out of the tree and into the tall grass, Renamon landing beside him softly. Matt hopped the fence that divided nature and suburb, ending up in his neighbor's heavily-wooded yard. As soon as Renamon was nearby, they dashed across open lawn and driveway up to the door of Matt's house. He swiftly pulled the key out of his pocket and thrust it into the lock. A turn and a shove and he was inside and over the threshold. With he and Renamon safely inside and away from prying eyes, he allowed himself to release his breath and the tension that had been sitting deep inside him.

Renamon seemed as calm as she had been the entire time since Matt had met her, and she stood in the center of the living room floor, surveying all that was to be seen. When Matt realized her scrutinizing actions, he blushed faintly; his house wasn't the cleanest of places. One could definitely tell that a family with two kids lived in this house, and it couldn't have been making a very good impression.

She noticed his embarrassment, and she turned slightly to look at him with a curious expression.

"You're blushing."

"Hmm? Oh. Yeah…"

"Why?"

Matt rubbed his shoulder absently. "Well, my house isn't exactly fit for someone else to just start living in. I mean, it's a mess! I can't believe I didn't remember this before I brought you here."

"Are you saying that you would have not allowed me in if you had recalled that your house was dirty?"

Matt blushed a bit more. "No… I probably would have just warned you or something, instead of springing it on you all sudden like this." he grinned.

Renamon spoke matter-of-factly. "I won't lie to you, it is a mess. But you have to think, considering where I just came from, this place is much more interesting."

"I guess you can't really argue with that… Alright then, enough standing around. Time for the grand tour." Matt led Renamon to all the rooms, which only took about three minutes. They ended up in Matt's room, and Renamon marveled at all the posters, pictures, and other things that adorned the wall.

Matt's room held four major pieces of furniture: his bed, his bookshelf, his dresser, and his desk. The desk was a large piece, and it filled up a whole corner of the room, its surface adorned with a computer monitor, keyboard, a small safe, CDs, books, several knives, and tons upon tons of papers. His bookshelf stood beside it, bearing hundreds of multicolored names, the most prominent of which were George Orwell and Ray Bradbury. There were also several dozen books on graffiti, stencils and stencil artists, and Postsecret. Upon his light oak dresser sat a large TV set with a DVD player and a satellite box, with a window that overlooked his neighbor's roof and the field situated above the dresser. Finally, his bed lay in the corner of the room running along the wall to stop a foot before the door. It was several feet high off the carpeted floor, but it held drawers underneath it, most of which contained paint and books.

"So, uh, here we are." Matt said, slightly awkwardly.

Renamon was looking intently at all the things that jutted and crawled over Matt's walls. Band posters, cityscapes, comics, vintage posters, movie posters, a dart board, and a neon clock were among the more normal objects, but what really stood out to the eye were the blades and swords that hung from nails embedded in the wooden studs hidden by drywall. Renamon was eyeing one in particular, a full-tang, single edged straight blade that possessed a simple elegance. The sheath was a dark night with a single gold band wound round it, bringing contrasting light to the pitch emptiness. The handle was a soft, dull cherry hue, with a river of silver metal cutting through it. Just above the golden guard, laid in filigree as delicate as spider's legs, was a yinyang of pulsing sapphire that glowed and throbbed with a captivating energy.

She extended a hand towards it and asked of Matt, "May I?"

"By all means."

Her hand wrapped around the smooth handle and gently pulled it down from its lofty position. With an almost reverent look in her eyes, she unsheathed the blade from the scabbard, eliciting the faintest of noises from the sliding steel. The blade itself was long and tempered, with a brilliantly sharp edge and a wicked tip. Just below the tip, in a space about as large as a silver dollar, was engraved another yinyang, its design not unlike Renamon's own.

She held the weapon at arms length, feeling the weight in her hands. Finally she sheathed the sword and set it back on the wall.

"Where did you get that?" she asked of Matt, her eyes still attached to the sword.

"Would you believe it was a gift? Uncle gave it to me a long time ago, just before he moved. He's somewhere in Australia now."

She gave Matt a funny look. "From here to Australia? That's a weird move…"

Matt shrugged. "He was a weird guy. He never told me where he got it though…"

"Speaking of family, aren't yours supposed to be home soon?"

Matt shot a glance to the neon face of his analog clock.

6:53

"Yeah, they'll be here any minute if I know them. Hey, this is a small house, and I'm hoping I'm not asking too much, but do you think you could…" he dropped off.

"Leave?" Renamon finished.

"I wasn't going to put it as bluntly as that, but maybe you could go explore the neighborhood or something for a while, y'know, until night rolls in and the folks settle down to watch TV. There's a park over that way-" he gestured east with his finger, "-where you can find tons of quiet places if you need to get away. I've been over there many times."

"Alright." she said simply, with a slight nod.

"It's spring, so there's probably a not as many people out as there could be; it still gets cold early this time of year. Oh yeah, and when you come back tonight, land on Alex's roof-" he pointed out the window to the top of his neighbor's house, "-and throw two stones at my window. I'll come and let you know if the coast is clear, and then you can phase in." Matt said

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you later." With that, her body rippled and disappeared from the room, and Matt moved to the window to see her appear in the yard below his second-story window. She glanced up once, met his eyes, and moved toward the field, keeping to the shadows from trees and houses caught in the path of light thrown from the setting sun.

Matt smiled and ducked his head back inside his window. He went to his computer, switched it on, and started Window's Media Player, accessing all of the CDs he had burnt to the hard drive. He set the whole job on shuffle and cranked up the volume, taking great pleasure in the flowing guitar rhythms and melodic vocals that washed over him. With his mental self focused on the music and the reflection of the day's events, he began the physical chore of tidying up his room.

_Ok, I got that chapter out of the way. It felt a little boring, but I guess you always have to have chapters like that in any story. For those who care, don't fret. The action will pick up in a few chapters. And thanks to my lone reviewer, Jared Head. You're the main reason this story was going to be kept up, so eternal gratitude to you._


	6. Sasha

The clock invaded Matt's vision as he stood up from the floor where he had been cleaning.

8:47 screamed the blue neon circle.

Two hours. Matt had been on his hands and knees cleaning for _two whole hours_. He couldn't remember the last time he had paid that much attention to the cleanliness of his room. The floor was clean and vacuumed, the bed had been changed and made, and the desk had been liberated from every type of oppressive clutter Matt thought could exist. With his hands on his hips, Matt viewed the spectacle around him with a small sense of pride; this didn't happen too often, and it was never as good as this.

His parents had gotten home about ten minutes after Renamon left, and they contributed the standard "Who are you and what have you done with our son" bit as soon as they saw him cleaning. After a while, though, the appeal of that banter had worn off and they had left to watch TV, with his mom rising every so often to stir something in a pot on the stove. His brother had glued himself to another computer game in the garage office, and it was a good bet that he wouldn't be in unless he had to eat or sleep.

With a satisfied sigh, Matt sat down in his desk chair and opened up Adobe Photoshop, intent on working on any number of stencil projects he had floating around in the back of his mind.

Suddenly an thought flickered across his concentration. Shoving a hand into his pocket, he pulled out the white and green D-power and began to look it over, having forgotten about its existence until just now.

The screen glowed dimly and emitted the faintest of humming noises, as though it were awaiting his command to begin. His newfound knowledge had told him much of the basic functions, but he had yet to explore them. He lightly pressed one of the buttons on the face of the D-power, and immediately the screen was illuminated with a menu interface.

On the screen there were four squares, each occupying a quarter of the screen and bearing four separate headings: INFO, DATA, LOCATION, and CARD. He highlighted INFO and clicked, the screen going white and flashing black text in the center that read _No Target Found._ Not surprised, he went back to the main screen and selected CARD, making three more options appear to replace the previous ones. _Store Last Card_, _Storage_, and _Delete Storage_ came up, and he realized that he knew just what these options did as well. The _Store Last Card_ option would put the data from the last card swipe into storage, where it could be used indefinitely, while the _Storage_ command opened up the library that held the saved card data. As best as he knew, the D-power only held three separate data packages. Lastly, _Delete Storage_ was used to clear space and trade out old data for new.

Going back and opening DATA from the menu, he found two more headings that read _Digimon_ and _Tamer_. He opened the _Digimon_ section and was presented with a small holographic screen 12X12 in. in size that hovered about an inch away from the surface of the D-power and bore a picture of Renamon and a list of stats. He could see Renamon's attack names, physical information, and whether she was currently injured or not. He also noticed that there were many empty boxes below the filled ones, and he guessed that they were for data that was yet to come.

He went back and clicked _Tamer_ out of curiosity, for he had known that Renamon's data would have been there but had been surprised by the presence of info on himself. The holographic screen reappeared, this time showing Matt, clad in the same articles of clothing that he was wearing now. It displayed his age, height, weight, whether he was sick or hurt, how long he had been a Tamer, the number of battles he and Renamon had been in, and several empty boxes like had been in Renamon's profile. He raised his eyebrows, finding it unusual to read so much one's self like a biography or game.

Finally, he went back and checked the last section, LOCATION, from the menu. Another holographic screen popped up, this one showing an overhead map of what Matt guessed was his neighborhood. He found that there was a blue dot that represented the D-power and a yellow dot for locating Renamon. He also could zoom out or in quite a lot, though houses and buildings were still represented by hollow boxes. Viewing his screen, his noticed a yellow dot come onto the map from off the edges, moving closer and closer to the blue dot. Finally, it stopped just a little way away from Matt's home, apparently in or on Alex's house.

'Renamon.' Matt thought to himself with a smile.

Two knocks at his window verified his assumption, and Matt set the D-power on the desk and got out of the seat, moving towards his bedroom door. Opening it silently, he poked his head out.

His parents were still downstairs watching TV, and there was no sign of his little brother. Closing the door, he turned to his window and slid it open.

"Everything's cool." He whispered into the darkness.

An instant later, Renamon materialized beside him, nodding in greeting.

"Hey." Matt said. "How did it go?"

"It went well enough. I explored about two miles in every direction from your house and found three rifts, all of them thankfully away from largely populated areas."

"Hmm? Rifts?"

"Holes between this world and the digital world, my world. The rifts can act as doors, usually sending digimon to the human world." Renamon explained.

"Are they good or bad?" Matt questioned.

"Rifts themselves are not good or bad in nature, but rather it is the digimon that use them that have malicious intents. You see, the digital world is a brutal place, with the strong destroying the weak to become even stronger. Those that make it here, whether by accident or plan, are used to the kill-or-be-killed nature of their previous realm and try to duplicate that nature here. That's where you and I come in. We intercept the rogue digimon and eliminate them before they cause problems. In doing this, we preserve the boundary between the two worlds, keeping peace where there might otherwise be chaos."

"Wow. Sounds like a lot of responsibility when you put it that way."

"Indeed."

"Back to the rifts again, can they be used to go back to the digital world?"

"Only if a digimon wants to. You can't force anyone through, though."

"What about, say, me?"

Renamon paused. "Sending organic matter to the digital world can be… messy, to say the least."

"Yuck." Matt uttered, trying not to picture anything that could have been described as 'messy'.

"Only very large openings can be used by humans, and I can sense none anywhere in this area. Why did you want to know, anyway?" Renamon asked.

"Just seems like information that would be good to know."

Renamon nodded, then changed the subject.

"You look like you've been busy." she said as she looked about herself at the clean room and floor.

"Oh, yeah. Well, y'know, you have to clean every once in a while, right?"

"I suppose so."

Matt snapped his finger. "Oh! Hey, did you eat while you were out?"

Renamon shrugged. "I caught a rabbit…"

"You still hungry?"

"Sure."

"'Kay, hang on." Matt turned and left the room, thumping his way down the stairs to the kitchen, passing his parents in the family room. Grabbing a steak leftover from dinner off of the skillet, he popped it in the microwave for a minute. After sixty seconds, he pulled it out and hurriedly dropped it on a waiting plate, cursing mildly and putting a scorched finger into his mouth. He took it out and shook the pain away, picking up the plate and grabbing a water bottle from the refrigerator, which he softly kicked closed. Treading quietly, he crept past his parents and their episode of CSI and vaulted up the stairs three-at-a-time. He arrived back in the room, opening the door and finding Renamon sitting on his bed studying the canvases on his wall.

As he shut the door, Renamon turned to speak to him.

"Did you do these?" she inquired, pointing to many paintings, including a skull and crossed roses, a multi-layer image of a guitar player screaming his soul out to a microphone, and several tributes to other artists.

"Yeah. Why?"

"They're very good."

"Thanks. Maybe I can do one for you sometime." He held the plate in her direction. "Here. It's probably just a snack to you, but it's what we had left."

She looked at the steak and back at Matt with widened eyes. "Oh, I don't think it would be right for me to… I mean-"

"We're partners now and I have to make sure you're at least fed, right? How could I call myself a Tamer if I didn't make some sort of effort to act like one?" Matt said with a warm smile on his face.

Renamon shrugged and accepted the plate. She would have to get used to the kindness of another; meals were not handed to you in the digital world.

"Oh crap." Matt said suddenly. "Forgot a knife. I'll be right back." He turned to leave but was stopped by Renamon's comment.

"No need." she said. Holding the steak between two fingers, she snapped it up in four quick bites and causally licked the sauce from her fingers. She set the plat down on the bed and thanked Matt for his generosity.

Matt, for his part, stood with slightly raised eyebrows and nodded in reply. Shaking his head slightly, he remembered the water bottle in his hand and extended his arm toward her once more.

"Here," he said. "You can wash it down with this."

She gently took the water bottle from his hands, unscrewed the top, and drained the whole thing right before Matt's eyes. Smiling slightly in gratitude, she handed him the now-empty bottle and stretched.

"That was nice, thank you." she said.

"You're welcome." Matt took a seat in his office chair and faced Renamon.

"Renamon?"

"Yes?"

"I've been thinking. 'Renamon' is the name of your digimon species, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"And there are other Renamon out there, are there not?" Matt continued.

"Yes." Renamon repeated, nodding thoughtfully.

"So me calling you 'Renamon' is essentially the same thing as you referring to me as 'Human', right?"

Renamon's brow furrowed. She had not thought about that before…

"Yes, I suppose it is…"

"Have you ever thought about having a name that set you apart, something that identified you as an individual?"

"I can't say that I have, but now that you mention it, the idea intrigues me. Are you suggesting that perhaps I get a real name?" Renamon asked, slightly overwhelmed at the prospect.

"Only if you want to."

"I think I do. 'Renamon' was what I went by in the digital world, but now that I think about it, it seems foolish to have a name that just restates what you are physically. I think I should get a new name, if for nothing else than to symbolize the beginning of my new life." she decided.

"That sounds like a solid plan. Did you have anything in mind?"

"I'm not sure. It's a little sudden…" She lightly bit her lip and began to think silently to herself. Matt waited patiently until she lifted her head back up again to look at him.

"Sasha." She said quietly, gauging Matt's face for a reaction.

Matt grinned reassuringly. "Sounds good. I think it suits you. It carries with it a sort of… grace, but it sill sounds strong, as it should."

Sasha smiled widely, looking relieved that her choice was deemed acceptable by her Tamer.

Matt got up out of the chair and stretched widely, catching the time on the clock face.

9:42

It was early, but he felt dog-tired. Still, it had been a big, life-changing sort of day, so he supposed his weariness was not without good reason.

"Well, Sasha," he said, grinning again at her pleasure at her new name, "I think I'm going to turn in for the night, what about you?"

"Will it be safe enough for me to sleep without being found?" she asked.

Matt simply nodded. He walked to his door, cracked it open slightly, and hollered downstairs.

"Mom? I'm beat, I'm going to bed."

Sasha heard a faint "'night" drift up from downstairs before Matt closed the door, pushing the pin on the knob and locking the door as he did so. After he brushed his teeth, washed his face, and changed into his sleepwear in the bathroom he shared with his brother, he did the same to that door, sealing himself and Sasha inside the room.

"There." He said with finality. "Now no one can get in. You're totally safe to sleep."

"Then I think I will. I feel a bit tired myself." Together they set up a long bed of sheets and blankets on the floor for Sasha to sleep on until more permanent arrangements could be made.

Each laying on their respective beds, Matt reached over and shut off the light, drowning the room in darkness. The only sounds that were heard in the stillness were the chirp of crickets and the whispering of nightly breezes creeping through Matt's open window.

"Goodnight Sasha." Matt spoke from his bed.

"Goodnight Matt." Sasha returned, smiling lightly.

_Another descriptive chapter. I'm not sure if it works too well or not, but at least this one had some dialogue in it, so all is not lost. Be prepared for battles in upcoming chapters, and be sure to tell me what you think in the review section!_


	7. Errands

_Oh my stars! Pigs are flying outside my window and Hell is reporting a rather drastic snow level. Believe it or not, I have actually updated! Yes, yes, I know. Why in the now-rather-cold-place have I waited so long? The reason for my literary lethargy actually lies in an uninteresting story of my summer. For some reason, my family deems It necessary to ship me around between relatives during the summer, often for weeks at a time. Don't get me wrong, I love the family, but that situation leaves me unable to do lengthy work on my story. I have been to San Francisco, Oakland, San Jose, Dillon Beach, and the Russian River over the course of these few months, often for a week or more each. I have also had to deal with my grandmother's broken femur (no lies!) and a few family projects. But enough of my excuses. I want to thank everyone who's waited (and waited) patiently. I should never have to keep you guys in the dark like I did at times, but here's to Jared Head, Renaki, BlueRenamon, and everyone else who has read or reviewed. You can expect a more frequent rate of updates from now on, because I'm not giving this one up. Now I'll shut up and let you read. Enjoy._

Matt awoke to the sound of softly chirping birds and opened his eyes to witness the first rays of dawn gently filtering through his window. He allowed his eyes to close momentarily as he lay there, but a flood of recollection for the previous day's events chose that particular moment to soak into him and they snapped open again.

"Sasha." he breathed.

He remembered everything, but had any of it actually occurred outside of a dream? It all sounded so absurd, and yet he could still visualize everything with an uncanny clarity, a certainty which he felt would never lie to him. Determined to know the truth of the matter, Matt gritted his teeth in apprehension and turned in his bed to peer over the edge.

His waiting eyes beheld a despicably clean floor, no blankets and definitely no Sasha. He sighed long and loud, falling backwards onto his bed. It had all seemed so real, so understandably clear…

"Shoulda known it was to good to be true…" he said aloud to himself, tacking on a frustrated "Damnit!" at the end of his vocalization. It wasn't the first set of realistic dreams he had had, but it was certainly the most painful.

He felt like he had lost an old friend, a companion that was going to change everything…

Bitter thoughts dripping down his mind, Matt grudgingly got out of bed and proceeded to get dressed, face downcast all the while. When he reached to the desk for his knife and watch, however, he noticed something strange. Next to the two items lay a third, a piece of printer paper rolled up tight and sealed with a rubber band.

It hadn't been there when he went to bed. Hope and curiosity flowing within him once more, he snatched the sheet of paper and hurriedly removed the constricting band. He unfurled it and his eyes ran over graceful, elongated printing.

Definitely not his handwriting nor that of any other family member of his.

Matt began to smile to himself as he took in the relieving words.

_Matt,_

_No, it wasn't a dream. You looked like you were having a good dream, and I felt it wouldn't have been right to wake you. I picked up the sheets off the floor just in case your family manages to barge in, so hopefully they won't be able to ask any questions. I'm out at the park for now, but when you need me just use the small "Page" button in the Location section of your D-Power. Although now that I think about it, you probably already knew that, didn't you? See you in a bit._

_Sasha _(Here it looked as though "Renamon" had been written and then erased)

With a huge grin on his face, Matt could not help but fall back on his bed and let out a relieved breath. Life was good again.

He considered calling Sasha then and there, but decided to let her have a bit more time to herself. After all, her situation was not too different from his own: she was having to deal with an alternate lifestyle and a new concrete duty just as he was. She could probably use the time to think.

With a smile present upon his face once again, Matt unlocked his door and stepped downstairs, skirting a sleeping feline in the process. His brother was sitting at the table eating breakfast while his mother cleaned the kitchen and his father picked up trash and dirty dishes from the family room and living room.

"Finally he's awake." his eleven year-old brother, Chris, said with a voice that oozed sarcasm.

"Pfft. It's only-" Matt said as he turned to glance at the digital clock face above the oven. "10:00… Crap. I guess I did sleep pretty late…"

"Yeah, well you're lucky we saved you some food." his mother said as she handed him a plate piled with scrambled eggs and a bagel. "By the way," she continued, "have you seen the steak from last night? I could have sworn I left it out on the stove, but I couldn't find it last night to put it away."

Matt allowed a faint smirk to inch across his mouth. "No, Mom, I haven't seen it. Maybe one of the cats took it and hid it somewhere."

"I wouldn't put it past Spenser. That cat'll take anything edible that isn't roped down." his mom remarked.

"Anyway," Matt started, "I think I'm gonna go out to today and pick up a new tube for my bike tire. The old one's completely trashed. Anything you need me to get while I'm out?" he said in between mouthfuls of food.

"No, I don't think we desperately need anything right now, so you don't have to worry."

"Right, then I'll go get my money and I'll be off, alright?" Matt said as he gulped down his last bit of breakfast and stood up from the table.

"Done already?" his mother questioned. "I swear, you don't eat your food so much as inhale it. Which store are you going to?"

"The one in the Greenfield Plaza." Matt called back from the top of the stairs. "That cool?"

"Yeah."

Matt slid into his room and swiftly shut the door behind him. Moving to his desk, he pulled open a drawer and retrieved his D-Power from within, lighting up the small screen in the process. A few clicks later and he was at the Location section of the small technological instrument. Sure enough, there was a small button that read "PAGE" in the lower right section of his D-Power.

As soon as he clicked the tiny option, the holographic screen that had displayed the map retracted and the D-Power screen went white. "Connecting…" began to flash in the center of the screen, followed shortly by "Connected" and "Link Established".

The thing emitted a sharp "Ding!" and was silent, the holographic screen projecting once more from the D-Power. As Matt watched, the small yellow blip from last night began to move toward his house, though this time it bore tiny yellow type underneath it. "SASHA" it read.

Satisfied, he put the D-Power back into his pocket and moved to his bookshelf, removing a tattered copy of 1984. He flipped to page 84 and pulled out a small bronze key taped to the paper. He threw the book onto his bed and inserted the key into the safe on his desk, pulling the drawer out to reveal a green wad of bills and a few objects of more sentimental value.

As he thumbed through the money in his hand, he heard two distinct clacks at his window. He flipped the lock into place on his door and opened the window above his dresser.

"All clear." he spoke.

Sasha phased into the room beside him, a small smile showing on her face as she looked over her Tamer.

"Good morning." she said.

"Same to you. How's everything look out there?"

"If you're talking about the rifts, it's all quiet."

"Perfect. That will give us a bit more time, then. I have to go out and buy some stuff today. You want to come along?"

Sasha shrugged. "I don't see why not."

"Cool. Hang on just a sec." Matt stuffed two twenties into his pocket and threw the rest in the safe. After he shut it and replaced the key, he turned to Sasha and nodded. He moved to open the door and Sasha disappeared from the room.

Matt passed a quick goodbye to his mom and was out of the house and moving across his lawn to the field that ran behind his cul-de-sac. With a quick jump and push, he cleared the metal fence and dropped into the tall grass, standing up again to scout Sasha's whereabouts. Shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand, he spun around multiple times trying to find the elusive digimon.

Matt jumped in surprise as his partner materialized out of the air in front of him.

"Are you ready?" she questioned.

"God, I'm gonna have to get used to that… Yeah, I'm ready. Let's go." Matt turned and strode off through the browned grasses, the taller stalks crunching as they fell beneath the soles of his shoes.

Sasha sped up and walked alongside him.

"You're not worried that someone might see me?" she queried. "Yesterday you were so deadset on keeping my existence a secret from your family. Why the sudden change in attitude?"

Matt chuckled, slightly embarrassed. "I'm afraid the situation with my family will not change so fast, and for that I'm sorry-"

"I understand that."

"Right, but I've come to realize that you're intelligent enough to take care of yourself."

"One can only hope so."

"Heh. Plus, it'd probably be pretty hard to be spotted by the average passerby nowadays. People are always plugged into their earpieces and their cell phones; they're almost always too busy texting to take real notice of their surroundings. They always watch the sidewalk or their screen, hardly ever glancing at the sky. I bet if you stood in a tree or on a secluded rooftop, no one would care to exert the effort it would take to see you." Matt said with slight disdain.

"You seem very sure about all of this."

"Oh yes. I have great faith in the ignorance of others." Matt said with a laugh.

"Then I have faith in you." Sasha finished. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"There's a shopping center not too far from here called Greenfield Plaza. They have a couple of stores I need to check out, y'know, bike stores, electronics, stuff like that." As grass gave way to gravel underfoot, Matt added, "We're coming up on the main road. If you ever wanted to practice your tree-climbing, this is the perfect time."

Sasha scoffed. "Practice? I'll have you know, scaling trees is second-nature to me." With that, she bounded toward the trunk of the tree and leapt gracefully into the upper branches, blinded from sight by the thick blanket of leaves.

The body of the tree shivered slightly as she landed, and the motions carried out into ripples all across the mass of green leaves, looking for all the world like the tree was alive. Matt had to stifle a grin as he heard a distinct "Ouch!" descend from the leafy canopy of the tall tree. As he strode past the trunk and onto the paved sidewalk, he couldn't help but smile.

"Second nature indeed." he muttered aloud.


	8. Cards

The sliding doors separated and Matt stepped out from the bike shop and into the sunlight, the sudden brightness making his eyes squint involuntarily. The bag in his hand held a brand new tire tube, which he fully intended to install as soon as he got home, and he only had one more stop planned.

He walked out across the tar-blackened parking lot, passing cement barriers and bark-filled planters that housed small trees. A bit farther, and he crossed the doorframe of a dusty, under-visited comic-book store that squatted far and isolated from the rest of the more frequented stores.

Bells jingled dimly as Matt opened and closed the door, and a tall, thin man behind the counter looked up from the Want Ads section of a newspaper, his glasses reflecting the mid-morning sun as it shone like a stranger through the slightly cloudy storefront windows.

Matt pretended to browse the racks and racks of trading cards and comics, letting time build up before he went and talked to the man. As he stepped up to the counter, he faltered slightly. The man's look was one of surprised curiosity, and Matt hardly doubted that he was the first customer of the day.

"Um, hi." he started, feeling that his request probably sounded weird for someone of his age group. "Do you guys carry any… Digimon cards?"

The man blinked once and processed the request. No one had asked for Digimon cards in a long time. The store didn't even display them anymore. But whatever. The customer is always right, after all.

"Sure, man. We have the standard booster pack. Eleven cards, three dollars."

Matt fished a twenty out of his pocket, holding it in the direction of the register. "I'll take five."

The man ducked out of sight and returned with a stack of silvery-wrapped packs clutched in his hand. Currency and product exchanged hands, and the man stroked his goatee as he rang up the purchase.

"So, uh…" he started, trying to initiate conversation. "You're the first kid in a few months to even ask about these things. You a collector?"

"Somethin' like that."

"I always thought it was a good game. Too bad it never really caught on 'round here."

"Yep, shame." Matt replied as he accepted both his change and his cards. "Well, I'll see you around." He flashed a goodbye wave to the man and walked out the door.

The man continued to stroke his goatee long after Matt had left, his glasses reflecting the late morning sun as he watched his latest customer stroll away.

"I wonder…" he mused to himself.

* * *

"I'm back, mom!" Matt hollered as he stepped through the doorway of his home.

"Did you find what you needed?"

"Yeah. Hey, I gotta go check something on the computer. I'll be in my room for a while."

"Fine, but don't stay up there too long. It's a nice day, and you shouldn't spend it at a keyboard!"

Matt rolled his eyes. "Whatever." he said with a slight chuckle.

As soon as the lock clicked on his door, Sasha phased beside him, gazing intently at the bag in his hand.

Matt was a little surprised. "You look curious." he said, catching the direction of her stare.

She looked up. "I just didn't figure you for a comic book sort of person."

Matt smiled. "You figured right." He tossed the bag onto his unmade bed and proceeded to remove its contents. "The comic book store had these."

He turned and held the five packs of cards for Sasha to see, and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Digimon cards? Real ones?"

"Well, they're cards alright, but there's only one way to make sure that they work." That being said, Matt tore open one of the foil packs, gingerly removing the small group of cards.

"Upgrade: Plating." Matt read from the first card in the stack. He shrugged. "Good as any for a test." Holding the card just above the slot on his D-Power, he looked at Sasha. "Ready?"

She nodded, and Matt slashed the card through the device. Instantly, a soft light began to emanate from the violet armguards on Sasha's forearms. It quickly escalated into a blinding flare, and Matt absently worried that his folks might see reflected light from under his door.

When the sharp luminescence faded, the normal Sasha had vanished and been replaced by one with a light metal guard on her forearms and ankles, as well as a large plain breastplate that covered her chest.

She looked down in surprise, holding her arms out so as to better survey the new changes. "Hmm…" she breathed, nodding slightly in approval.

"Cool." Matt said, reaching out to lightly flick the shining metal with the tip of his nail. He moved his eyes from the glistening surface and gazed at Sasha. "Bet that'll come in handy. How does it feel?"

"Almost… like it's a part of me. It's so light I barely even notice it."

"Nice. Does it, uh, wear off on its own?"

"It should."

"Right. Well, I should organize the rest of these while I have the chance." He held up the four remaining packs of cards. "You might wanna stay here till the effect goes away. You're a little shiny right now."

Sasha took a seat upon the wooden chest at the foot of the bed and began to scrutinize her recent alterations. Matt could see her out of the corner of his eye, flexing and stretching, taking little leaps to test the maneuverability and elasticity of the metal. He nodded approvingly to himself and began to organize his cards.

The more he looked at them, the more he began to understand the setup of the cards and their functions. Most Upgrade cards, like the one he had used on Sasha, came in three tiers; plain Upgrade, Upgrade II, and Upgrade III. Each one was more potent the higher it went, but the effects often came at the expense of other elements, like movement or energy. There were also many single-usage healing cards that dealt with a variety of ailments, most commonly physical beatings. Then there were the Digimon cards themselves. Each one bore a likeness of a different digimon, as well as the tactical characteristics of its namesake. When such a card was slashed, the recipient inherited the qualities of that digimon, most often attacks.

Having assembled his cards, Matt dug up a leather compass case from the bowels of his closet and threw his cards onto it. He clipped it to his belt and turned to look at Sasha, finding her sitting cross-legged on the chest, eyes closed.

Before he could say anything, she spoke. "You have finished arranging your cards?"

"Yes."

"Not a moment too soon. We shall be having company."

"What do you mean?" Matt checked his D-Power. "There's no signal from-"

"Just wait. Until it arrives, I suggest you inform your parents that you will be leaving shortly."

Matt opened his mouth to say something but changed his mind and let it shut once more. He nodded and opened the door.

"Hey mom?"


	9. Trial By Fire

"It looks like it's gonna appear a bit west of here." Matt shot over to Sasha. She nodded without looking at him and kept pace with Matt as they ran through the field that ran near Matt's house.

The D-Power had long since gone off with gusto, alerting them to the presence of an approaching Digimon with several sharp beeps and flashes. It was clutched in his hand now, the readout screen displaying the positions of he and Sasha as well as their undefined target.

Together they jogged at a brisk pace through overgrown wildlife refuges, along deserted park paths, and under bridges. Occasionally the traffic on a road would be too great and they would have to teleport across to avoid being seen, but for the most part they ran into little trouble.

"It's one PM on a Saturday during a three day weekend." Matt said when Sasha mentioned the low amount of pedestrians. "Everybody's either out of town or at home enjoying their break. Plus there's some "American Idol" episode or something that's supposed to be great coming on right about now." Matt pulled a face and kept running.

"As long as they are not disturbing us."

"Yeah." Matt agreed.

"Any data on our target yet?"

"None. We'll probably get something in a bit, though. We're getting closer."

"Good. Let's finish this before it gets out of hand."

The two of them rounded a small grove of trees in a remote corner of the park and were met by a sea of fog. The misty grayness had seeped into a moderately wooded area, and as Matt let his gaze wander over the blurred edges of the fog he beheld the tips of several eucalyptus trees tentatively poking their skinny limbs through the unnatural visitor.

He pulled his D-Power out of his pocket and proceeded to check the screen. "No info yet..." he muttered to himself.

Sasha seemed to have heard him, for she said in return, "The digital fog tends to hide all but the strongest of signals. There is no real way of knowing what it is we are to face inside until we cross the perimeter."

Matt put on the sunglasses Sasha had instructed him to bring. "What are we waiting around here for, then?" Without another word they strode together and allowed the thick dry fog to wash over them, plunging them into a world where nothing existed but the tree-filled scenery in a five-foot radius.

Matt found himself thinking aloud. "How the hell are we supposed to fight in this? Oh." No sooner than he had finished his question than the fog ceased to obscure his sight. At first he thought they had walked all the way through the fog, but there was no blue sky to be seen.

It was like the eye of a storm; a bubble of air in that ocean of mist that was shockingly clear and still. Other than the fact that it was free of fog, however, there was nothing relatively amazing about the portion of land. Trees stood half in and half out of the digital fog, and there were no real significant land features other than the vegetation they had been in the whole time.

Sasha's eyes picked up movement to their right, and she turned to behold a small, dinosaur-like creature rummaging about in the bushes some fifty feet away, apparently oblivious to their presence. Matt noticed her gaze and flipped out his D-Power yet again.

"Agumon," he read aloud. "A Rookie-level digimon. Attacks with fiery Pepper Breath and claw-slashing maneuvers." At his words, the Agumon perked up it's head and searched for the source of the sound, sniffing the air all the while. After two deep whiffs of the unmoving air, it turned and stood facing Matt and Sasha, growling lowly yet still unsure of what to do.

"Ok." Matt said to Sasha as he kept his eyes on the Agumon. "Be careful, and don't let him catch you off guard. He could be dangerous."

Sasha shrugged off his warnings. The fog was her element, and right now she felt charged and ready to move. She stood loosely on the balls of her feet, itching to dash forward. "I'll be fine, it's just a Rookie. This will be over soon enough."

"Still…"

"Have faith." No sooner than the words had left her mouth, the Agumon leapt forward at them, roaring with its claws raised high. Sasha moved swiftly to meet it in midair and throw the unfortunate wild one into a tree, while she herself landed in the branches of another.

The Agumon sprang to its feet and cried out in a high yet raspy voice.

"Pepper Breath!"

A dully-glowing ball of fire and energy formed in the mouth of the Agumon, and he sent it high ino the leafy boughs of the tree in which Sasha was standing. With an acrobatic bend she dodged the projectile and swung down to the ground.

The Agumon was waiting, though, and it tried to rake her with eager claws as she descended. Sasha dealt one mighty kick, however, that sent the Agumon skidding into the dirt several yards away. This time the return to its feet was rather staggering, and it rubbed the spot where the kick had landed, obviously not too keen on getting within kicking range like that anymore.

This time it sent several of the fiery attacks towards Sasha, who leapt out of the way and ran to her right in an arcing angle. The Agumon tried to keep up with her speed, but every one of its attacks always missed its moving target by a few feet or more.

Finally, Sasha stopped running. The Agumon, not expecting this maneuver, kept blasting attacks where he thought Sasha was going to have been running and thus made the final mistake that sealed its fate. Sasha used the momentary confusion to dart in close to the Agumon, and she wasted no time in doling out another heavy kick to the side of its head. The dinosaur flipped head over heels twice and rolled to a stop on the ground, where it began to sputter and flicker just like the first digimon Matt and Sasha had ever battled. It then disintegrated into hundreds of tiny, colored pixels, which Sasha collected to regain her strength.

And as soon as it had begun, it was over and the fog was fading. The pixels were all gone and the only indications that the Agumon had ever existed were the slightly smoking scorch marks were its numerous haphazard attacks had deigned to land.

Matt, for his part, was impressed. He figured that Sasha was strong, but seeing her in a real battle like that was a totally different experience. Just the way she moved and flowed across the landscape showed her utmost confidence in herself and the fact that she held complete control over everything on the field.

She appeared beside him and he was jolted out of his thoughts. Her breathing was only slightly deeper than normal, and she looked calmer than she had been prior to the fight. She looked at Matt with an air of expectance.

"Well," she started. "What do you think?"

"About what?"

"Everything. This is a taste of the challenges that will fall upon us. This was an easy match, but you can be sure it will not always be like this in the future. Will you be able to handle it?"

"Yeah. It doesn't look like you'll need too much help out there, though. You were incredibly strong."

"It was an easy opponent." Sasha said. The tone of her voice did not change, but she looked off into the trees as though she was caught off guard by his statement. "But there will be many times where I'll need your help. There'll be events that will try everything; your strength, your health, and your willpower. We might face things bigger than both of us, and your life will most likely be put into danger on more than one occasion. Neither one of us can do this alone, but if you don't want to go through with it all, I'll understand. Just tell me."

Matt laughed. "Don't be stupid. There's no way in hell I would ever let myself turn down this opportunity. Dangers or not, I'm in. You're not getting rid of me now." He smiled.

Sasha returned the smile and changed topics.

"So what now? The day is still young."

"Well, you're free to do whatever you feel like, I suppose. If I happen to need you I'll just hit the D-Power. As for myself…" He reached into a pocket and pulled out a handful of homemade stickers. "I'm gonna go leave my mark around town. I'll catch you later, alright?"

"Alright."

"Take care of yourself, then."

Sasha nodded and phased away. Matt looked around him and recognized her outline perched in a tree far off in the distance. He gave a low wave and turned on the spot, striding in a carefree sort of way back to the taller buildings of the shopping complexes. He had a sort of mild tingly feeling all over his body, and he couldn't help smiling for no reason as he walked along.

There was no denying it. He felt good.

_Ok, and that marks the end of this update. I hope you liked it, and don't be afraid to review. Let me know if there's anything worth changing in how I write. I'll try to respond if I can. Alright, thanks for reading. Good bye, good luck, and no blocks!_


	10. Bueller? Bueller?

_Hey there. Down-In-Flames here again. This is, astoundingly, another update. I suppose it is really stretching the term, though, as this is merely one chapter with no real plot importance. The text that follows is the result of one hour's worth of boredom and frustration with summer homework. It actually kinda snuck up on me, because I had not been planning to update for another week or so. Still, it's not direly important to anything that occurs later, so I'll give it to you guys early. Think of it as a short bonus, or a deleted scene._

"And thus we see that '3x to the fourth power' does in fact equal the hypotenuse of the third equation." the teacher droned.

Matt drifted out of his Algebra-induced daydream stupor long enough to write this engaging little tidbit down in his spiral notebook before he plunged back into blissful semi-consciousness.

The teacher had been talking in an unnaturally monotone voice for just inside an hour now, and Matt was thoroughly surprised that the boring old man had not drifted off to sleep himself. He seemed like he was on a human version of autopilot, continuously dribbling answers and theorems that much of the class had long since chosen to ignore.

He had more important things on his mind, anyway, Sasha and digimon being the most prominent among them. He wondered where she was right now, what she was doing…

Matt had the misfortune of sneezing loudly at that particular time, the resulting sound in what had been near-silence causing the professor to slip out of his trance and lose his place in his teachings. He stuttered for a moment, then chose to call on a student to cover up his forgetfulness.

"Mr. Shepard. Would you care to elaborate on what I have been saying?" he drawled.

Matt sighed under his breath. He summoned up the appearance of an attentive student who had been paying the utmost attention.

"Uh, no, Mr. Biggins, I think you've about covered everything I can think about." he said.

Mr. Biggins paused for a moment, then nodded and continued the lesson. Within a few seconds, it was as though he had never stopped.

Matt rolled his eyes and was lightly struck in the side of the head by a small bit of balled paper. He glanced over to the thrower, his best friend Steven, who proceeded to laugh silently a few rows over. Matt motioned with his finger the act of firing a gun into his own head and collapsed on the desk. Steven nodded solemnly, his eyebrows raised. He was bored to death too.

It took a whole half-hour for the class to end, and all most of the students had bothered to learn was that they had finals in three weeks.

"Three weeks! Can you believe it?" Steven had exclaimed to Matt as they left the class. "It feels like we just started! God, I have so much make-up work to do!"

Matt clapped him on the back. "Well, you had better go start then, hadn't you?"

Steven grunted absently, eyes wide at the prospect of so much work, and moved off to the library. Matt watched him for a minute, smiling and shaking his head. "What a loser…"

Throwing a few quick looks around him, Matt darted between a couple classrooms and crouched behind a bush. Pulling his D-Power and cards out of a pocket of his dark tan cargo shorts, Matt grinned. He had been waiting to look at them again all throughout that horrible Algebra 2 class. As he flipped through his assembled deck, he could barely suppress a rising level of excitement. Just the thought that something so grand had happened to him in a weekend was almost unbelievable.

"How many times have I told you, Shepard?" Rang a voice behind him. "No smoking pot on the school grounds…" Steven stepped in front of Matt, grinning widely. "Unless you feel like sharing!"

Matt stashed the cards before Steven saw them and exclaimed, "Jesus, Steve! Give me a heart attack why dontcha! I thought you had gone to the library?"

"I leant you my calculator, remember? I kinda think I might need a calculator if I'm doing math homework." he remarked sarcastically.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Matt dug around in his backpack and threw the device over at Steven, who caught it deftly.

"So what are you doing back here, anyway? _Are _you smoking pot? I told you, man, you gotta lay off the stinkweed! Dopes is for dopes!"

"Shut up, man! You know I've never touched the stuff." cried Matt, indignant.

"Oh yeah, that's right. I forgot you were one of those-" he flashed his hands in the air in front of his face, "Straight-edge, hardcore-type punk guys, huh?"

"Sticks and stones, you short bastard."

"You hypocritical jerk-off, you know better than to bring up my height! I should go all Bruce Lee on you!" He started jumping around and throwing mock punches at Matt's torso.

"Calm down there, tiny. You haven't taken martial arts a day in your life and you know it."

"It's in my blood. Besides, I don't need lessons to kick your ass." Steven said with a fierce smile. His eyes glanced down for a second and he stopped jumping. "Hmm? What's this?" Steven stooped down and grabbed something off the ground. "A Digimon card? I haven't seen one of these in years." He showed the card to Matt. "This yours?"

Matt snatched the card out of Steven's outstretched hand. "So what if it is?"

"What are you doing still messing around with trading cards, man? What are you, ten?"

"I sell them on the internet." Matt lied. "There are people out there who will pay good money for cards if they're in good shape. I found an old collection over the weekend and I'm trying to get a bit of extra money, ya know?"

Steven tapped the side of his nose twice with his index finger and pointed it at Matt. "Ah, 's a good idea. You really do need money so you can finally pay me back that twelve bucks."

"What?! It was ten bucks last time I checked, shorty."

"Yeah, but interest can be a bitch."

"Let's just go get some lunch, ok?" Matt suggested with a sigh and turned away. He went half a step and turned back again. "Can I borrow a couple bucks?"

Steven laughed and walked past him, handing him a five in the process. "God, I'm gonna be so rich!"

_What'd I tell ya? No point whatsoever, unless you count Steven finding the card. Still, part of me found some of it funny, and I'm relatively pleased with how some of the dialogue came out. My friends and I have banter like that all the time, so I have a lot to base it on._


End file.
